


Teach Me

by TheHomieRobbStark



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHomieRobbStark/pseuds/TheHomieRobbStark
Summary: Following your decision to start fresh in a new city, you run into someone from your past you thought you'd all but forgotten about.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Back To The Beginning

"Umm.... you not bout to do that shit in here are you?!" Erik asked, turning and eyeing you from the couch as you waddled into the living room. You moved slowly, arms full of nail care items and a bottle of nail polish remover stuck between your thighs. You switched your movements to short and shuffled once you reached the carpet so as not to drop anything.

"Uhh... this my place nigga, so yes the hell I am," you snap back, noticing Erik's gaze go from your arms to your jiggling ass as you make your way over towards him. You give him a side eye and a clipped grunt as you reach the coffee table, stopping to stare at it. You looked between it and the stuff hugged against your chest. You clearly didn't think this through.

Looking over to your boyfriend, you plaster a toothy smile on your face and put on your sweet voice.

"Babeee..?"

"Mmm hm..." he grunts out, returning your side eye from a second ago.

"You wanna help me out?" you grin, wagging your hips back and forth to emphasize the bottle still stuck between your legs. You knew that even on your sassiest of days, once you flashed him that wide grin of yours, he'd eventually falter.

Giving you a look, he sucks his teeth as he reaches over to begin pulling things from your arms and legs, placing them on the table. You smile toothily, bending forward to help him out a little.

"C'mon Y/N, you know I don't like the smell of this shit. Why can't you just go to the shop and get ya nails done?" Finally free of any restrictions, you plop down on the couch next to him, tucking your legs under you.

"First of all, " you look at him, "I know for a fact you got shit in your garage that smells way more toxic than some damn nail polish remover, so sack up."

You start organizing your stuff on the coffee table, fighting to keep a smirk from forming as you feel him stare at the side of your face.

"Plus," you quickly add, before he can start flaming your ass, "I ain't got nail shop money right now."

Your eyes glance up at the tv when you hear the channel switch. Damn. This nigga done turned on the basketball game. He knows you hate that shit.

"Aww babygirl, you know I gotchu. Ain't nothing but a word and I can slide you some cash to keep ya nails fresh." He smacks your thigh with the back of his hand, giving you a sly smile.

"And, you know I love it when you got them casket shits on, witcha bougie ass."

You laugh unrestrainedly at Eriks ignorance. "Nigga, I think you mean coffin." He chuckles too, locking his big brown eyes with yours.

Pausing, you breathe a small sigh, dropping your eyes to your lap as you fidget with your fingers. "..and I told you. I don't want you giving me money. I appreciate it, but, I got this Erik." You look back up to him, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your face to kiss his knuckles.

You loved how willing and unselfish Erik was whenever he offered to finance your lifestyle or give you some extra cash. I mean, it was true, your ass was bougie. But you were bougie because you could afford to be bougie, not because you had someone else footing the bill.

Well, you were able to afford it, that was until a couple of months ago.

____________________________________________________________________________

It had only been about a year since you had successfully moved out of your parents house into your first apartment in Washington DC, an accomplishment you had been incredibly proud and protective of. After graduating college with a degree in Urban Planning, you'd faced a hard few months back home searching for a job that was actually willing to pay you a bachelor's degree salary, and found your self settling for a call center job for the time being. Three months into that job you were laid off, and spent yet another several months searching for another job closer to what you were interested in. Luckily, you'd been smart and funneled most of your earnings straight into your savings, allowing you to fend off offers from your mom and dad to pay for any small expenses you had, while still being able to make the rent every month. You had tasted the freedom of a stable income and financial stability, however fleeting it may have been, and you'd be damned if you were going back to having to ask your parents for help.

Around your fourth month of unemployment, you'd gotten an offer for a Budget Analyst position at the Smithsonian in D.C, one that not only payed you at a graduate level, but also offered to pay for any relocation expenses. While it wasn't exactly what you'd wanted to do, you were far too excited about the idea of finally living on your own and making money to turn down the job. So, jumping at the chance for both independence and a change of location, you packed up your car with as much of your stuff as you could and drove across the country to begin your new journey into adulthood.

Meeting Erik, however, was a different journey altogether.


	2. A Fresh Start

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you stepped out onto the third floor and inhaled deeply, taking a moment to fill your lungs with the crisp air. It was rare when you had the chance to actually explore the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum, even though you'd been working there for the past three months, so you wanted to savor the moment. Understandably, you were always stuck behind your desk on the first floor or constantly flitting from office to office, dropping off and picking up documents and statements from your coworkers. You never got to see much beyond the East Wing of the building unless you were arriving to work or leaving from it, and you were pretty sure you were going to lose your goddamn mind if you had to memorize another detail of the front door without seeing something new.

That's why when Christianna, your office mate, asked if you wouldn't mind taking the bi-annual expenditure report you both made up to the Directors' meeting on the third floor, you jumped at the chance. Literally. You jumped out of your chair, snatched the report out of her hands and all but ran out of the office, hearing the sound of her laughing fading behind you as you headed towards the elevator. You and Christianna had grown pretty close in the last three months you'd been here, starting only a week apart from each other in the Accounting Department. She knew you'd been eager to explore all that DC had to offer, including all 19 of the Smithsonian's Museums. She also knew you'd been just as eager to avoid seeing Chad from Finance stop by to chat with you for what would be the fourth time that day.

You only had fifteen minutes to spare before the Directors meeting ended and you could pass off the report, so you had to hurry. You really didn't want to miss it.

Walking briskly, you made your way through the wide corridors of the museum, hugging the report closely to your chest so you could move quicker. It was surprisingly empty on the third floor, and there was no noise except the rhythmic clacking of your 3-inch suede booties against the marble floor. As you moved closer to the end of the hallway, your excitement grew as the view of the wide room before you started to open up. Reaching the end, you peeked out of the doorway to make sure both sides were clear before darting across the walkway, catching yourself on the railing with one hand and leaning your body against one of the tall pillars. Giddy already, you looked down over the railing and gasped, a wide smile forming across your face.

You saw tons of people mulling about on the first floor of the Rotunda, surrounding the information desks and the huge Elephant statue off-center. Teams of kids and tourists were being led this way and that for tours of the exhibits. All the excited chatter happening below drifted right up to your ears, along with some loud laughter and screams you matched with two toddlers playing hide and seek around one of the pillars with their dads. You absolutely loved people watching, and this was the perfect time for it. Friday's around noon were always one of the busiest, and it was so fun watching all the excitement unfold down on the first floor. Plus, it was beautiful. You were always interested in architecture, and though you didn't know much about it, the layout of the room reminded you of old roman structures you'd seen in your high school history books. The autumn sun shined brightly through the rounded windows near the peak of the building, spilling beautifully out onto the floor below like a golden curtain.

You were so caught up in everything, you didn't notice that you were practically gaping around in awe. Unfortunately, this also meant you didn't notice the tall figure that had managed to creep up and stand right next to you.

"First time here?"

"FUCK!" you yelped, jerking as your arms shoot to your chest to ease your pounding heart, the report falling to the floor in the process. You close your eyes and drop your head to take a few quick deep breaths to calm down, and hear what sounds like muffled laughter next to you. You mentally remind yourself to check your face to prevent from glaring at the sneaky motherfucker that just scared the shit out of you.

You fixed your mouth to irritatedly apologize for cursing when you look up. And up. This nigga was tall. 6 feet at the least. You were grateful you were wearing your heels, otherwise your 5'3.5" self would have been having neck problems looking at him given how close he was. 

You must have been gaping again, because his bearded mouth curled up into a slow smirk as he looked at you, and you swore you could see something glinting in his mouth for a second.

You didn't know why his height had you looking at him like some star struck preteen. You'd been surrounded by tall people your whole life, so this wasn't anything new. Granted, it probably had something to do with the incredibly gorgeous man that it was accompanied by, but you weren't ready to admit that yet. This creepy jerk had just snuck up on you and made himself comfortable right next to you, as if thats where his ass belonged. So fuck him and his cute ass smile. And his smooth, hazelnut skin and pretty brown eyes. And his- hol' up. Were those diamond studs in both his ears? Oh my - Focus Y/N!

You cleared your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts, and hopefully some dignity, looking down as you smooth your hands over your peplum dress, spotting the report you'd dropped on the floor a second ago. You start to bend to pick it up but he beats you to it, swiping up the document and offering it to you.

"My bad. I ain't mean to scare you like that." he smiles fully, showing off his perfect teeth. This nigga got golds too? Wait a minute.

You accept it, meeting his eyes as you respond, trying to keep your smile small to keep from doing too much. "Thank you. And I apologize, I didn't mean to curse." You put your Karen voice on, because you were, after all, still at work, and you didn't know this man like that.

Remembering his original question, you add, "And no, this isn't my first time here. I work downstairs in the accounting department."

Somehow he seems to smile even wider in an odd mixture of cocky and nonchalant. Apparently he was happy with this new information, and you couldn't help but feel slightly irritated. Whatever sensual cologne he was wearing was already starting to cloud your mind, and you really didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of this man any more than you already had.

"Forreal? Well aye, maybe you can help me out. I'm lookin for one of the Directors, Dr. Wendy Butler? You know where I can find her?"

Hearing the name, your eyes go wide as you promptly snap back to your senses. You knew exactly where he could find her because she was the one you were supposed to be dropping the expenditure report off to. You'd been so busy staring at cute babies and this mans face that you'd completely forgotten about it.

Checking your watch, you start moving off into the direction of the Directors' meeting while calling over your shoulder, "Come with me! I'm going to see her right now!"

Five minutes to spare. Good. You didn't want to risk being late when meeting with the Director, even if it was only for a few minutes, so you quickened your pace a little. Hearing the mans even strides behind you, you suddenly remembered the thin excuse for a thong you decided on wearing when you got dressed that morning, and your back stiffened a little. You could only imagine the view this man was getting of your unrestricted ass moving underneath your dress as you trotted through the corridor, and you mentally cringed. You knew you should have decided on the seamless briefs instead. Maybe thats why Chad from Finance kept coming around.

As if sensing your discomfort, he appeared beside you, bending his head to speak.

"You know, you movin pretty fast with them short legs you got."

You glance over to him and see that damn smirk back up on his face as he focuses ahead. Oh so he got jokes too? Okay.

"We can't all cross the ocean in one stride," you mutter under your breath. You were still a little pissed he'd interrupted your people watching, so you were being a little petty.

"What was that?" he raises both eyebrows, a look of humor hidden somewhere behind them.

"I said how do you know Dr. Butler?"

That clearly wasn't anywhere near what you'd said, but you dared him to call you on it. This man was getting far too comfortable for your liking, and you sensed that he was used to always getting his way by flashing that smile of his. You hoped to have that kind of power one day.

He bit his lip as if to bite back a laugh before answering. "I'm leadin' the Wakandan Outreach Program here thats partnering with the museum. I'm here to go over the budget with Dr. Butler."

The report. You looked down at it in your arms as the pieces clicked in your head. So that was why you and Christianna had been working overtime on the report all week. You'd both found it odd that you were drafting an expenditure report mid year, but figured it had been for an emergency since you'd rushed to complete it. So you had this guy to thank for that too. Great.

Finally reaching the conference room, you peeked through the window to check the status of the meeting so as not to interrupt. Everyone still looked heavily invested in the conversation, so you figured you still had a couple more minutes to spare. "We can wait here, she'll be done in a second." you speak.

You moved to lean against the wall, only to see him follow suit out the corner of your eye, settling in right next to you. What was with this guy and personal space?

You didn't want to risk looking up at him and accidentally giving him a bitch face, so you just cocked your eyebrow and flipped through the pages of the report, fake checking it.

Feeling his eyes on you, you fidgeted and shifted your weight to your other foot, trying to discreetly scoot a few inches over. It wasn't that you were scared or intimidated by him, but he had a strangely playful energy about him that you felt yourself slowly growing interested in.

You wanted to distance yourself from that feeling.

You were in a new city, at a new job, and at a new stage in life. You wanted to be selfish. You didn't want to involve somebody else in your new journey. Though, if you were being honest, you never really wanted to before either. You'd just gotten so used to being on your own up until then. You figured that maybe you just weren't meant to find someone who...

Before you were able to get lost in your thoughts, the door to the conference room opened, and you stood up, fixing your posture into a presentable manner. As the Directors filed out of the room, you smiled warmly, greeting them while searching for Dr. Butler through the crowd. You noticed the man you came with was still leaned against the wall, looking unbothered by the change in company.

You started to call out for Dr. Butler when she found you first, walking up to you to and greeting you. "Y/N, a pleasure to see you, as always." She smiled sweetly.

You returned the smile. "Likewise Dr. Butler. I have the report you requested," you said, handing the paperwork over to her. "And there's a man here to see you-" you turned towards him only to find that he was, once again, standing right next to you.

He extended his hand to hers for a shake. "Erik Stevens ma'am. We spoke over the phone regarding the budget for the Wakandan Outreach Program?"

So he had a Kyle voice too.

"Mr. Stevens! Glad to finally meet you. Look, I'm glad the both of you are here, actually, I have to run down to the Ocean Exhibit and talk to security. Seems one of our Blue-ringed Octopuses escaped again." she laughs, rolling her eyes.

"Why don't you two go over the report together? Y/N here is one of our top Budgeting Analysts, so you're in great hands. Take an extended lunch, on me."

Before you can open your mouth to protest, she says her goodbyes and walks off down the hallway, taking two security guards and the report with her.

You blow out a small breath before turning to face Mr. Stevens, seeing that slow smirk make its way back onto his face again.

"So," he says, looking you up and down. "Where you tryna eat?"

Fucking octopus.


	3. Memories

With Mr. Stevens trailing behind you, you headed back down to the first floor to print out another copy of the report to take with you out to lunch. You made him wait by the front desk while you dashed back to your office, hoping Christianna hadn't been out looking for you since you'd been gone longer than you expected. Seeing her face as you walked to your office, though, you realized there was no such luck on that front.

"Girl who is that FOINE ass man you got out there waiting on you?!" Christianna said, arms crossed and face curious as she leaned out your office to look at him. There was absolutely no shame in her game as she observed him from the doorway, taking note of his height and muscular physique. You were thankful the office was mostly cleared out for lunch, and luckily for you, the man in question had been too interested in his phone to notice your friend oogling him.

"If you don't get your nosy ass back in here!" you harshly whisper, snatching her arm up to pull her back inside and closing the door behind you. You spoke again, this time trying to keep the slight hysteria out of your voice so as not to give away your nervousness.

"He's here to go over the budget, so we're headed to lunch." You primly state, turning towards your desk to get started on printing the file. You didn't want her jumping to conclusions, but more importantly, you didn't want her harassing you and distracting you from keeping a clear and level mind. You were already anxious enough, and you really didn't need her adding to it.

Unfortunately for you, she didn't give a damn about your anxiety.

"Oh uh uh, you bout to tell me all about this nigga. I wanna know names, ages, and," she stopped, taking a second to peer through the blinds of the window, "where he works out, cuz I need to find me a nigga like him, gahDAMN."

"Really!?" you suck your teeth, walking over to pull her from the window, the blinds snapping as her fingers detach. You really wanted to laugh at your friends extra ass antics, but you also didn't want to encourage her to carry on her line of questioning.

You type in a few key strokes on the computer and hear the printer start whirring, hopping up from your desk to head to the corner with the printer.

"Bitch, I know you hear me," Christianna says, leaning back on her own desk and watching you, crossing her arms again. "Is this a date? How'd y'all meet?"

You were SO grateful that your office had a door attached to it, because otherwise, with the way you both talked to each other, there was no way you wouldn't have already gotten reprimanded and/or fired.

"Its not a date, alright? He's partnering with the museum with the Wakandan Outreach Program and Dr. Butler had an emergency, so she asked me to help. Ok?" You hoped that was enough information to keep her satisfied for the moment. You knew she'd have a barrage of questions once you got back, and you needed a full stomach and at least one drink to prepare for that.

"He's from Wakanda?! Ooo girl." You glance up interestedly at her as you stack the completed report in your hands, grabbing a manila folder. "I bet he's one of them mountaintop niggas. You know, I heard they got some of the biggest di-"

"GOODBYE CHRISTIANNA" you say, tuning her out. You grab your purse and coat from the back of the door and fling it open, heading back out to the front desk.

"Wait!" she called after you.

"So should I tell Chad you're taken?!"

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Stevens volunteered to drive you both to lunch, suggesting you go to The Capital Grille, a place he'd found while you were busy in your office. You agreed, texting the information on to Christianna while you walked out to the parking lot. It was a beautiful day in D.C., and the bright sun gave a warm contrast to the cold air around you as you walked across the pavement. You heard the chirping of a car alarm and you looked up from your phone, trying to guess which one belonged to him.

"I'm right here," he says, pointing to a black 2018 Cadillac Escalade parked near the front. Somehow, while it wasn't exactly what you expected, it also didn't seem entirely out of his character, what little bit of it you knew. Still, you chuckled as a weird sort of familiarity ran through you.

"Somethin funny over there?" He asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Nah," you answer, trying to loosen up a bit. "Just thought I remembered something." you say, smiling a little to yourself.

You hop in the front seat, closing the door and turning to buckle up. As Mr. Stevens leaned down to start the car, you thought you could see him from the corner of your eye, smile a little, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive to the restaurant was short and a little awkward, but the music from the radio helped to fill the silence. You tried not to panic fidget and instead opted to look out the widow, watching downtown D.C. whiz past you. Once you got to the restaurant, he pulled into the parking lot, driving up to the valet station. Putting the car in park, he hopped out, as did you, thanking the valet as he held the door open and helped you out. You thought it was a little extra that he was valeting the car for a simple business meeting, but you decided not to question it.

You started walking up the steps into the restaurant, so you didn't see it when Mr. Stevens leaned down and whispered something into the valets ear while he handed him the keys, and slipped what looked like a few bills into his other hand. When you glanced back, you did, however, see the valet give a huge grin while he looked between the two of you, then excitedly walk to the other side of the car, getting into the front seat.

You give Mr. Stevens a measured look as he makes his way up the stairs towards you. "Should I be concerned?" you say, cocking an eyebrow at him. You made a mental note to download the Uber app when you went to the bathroom, just in case you got any weird vibes during lunch.

"Nah, we good. C'mon, lets go inside." He let his hand hover above the small of your back while he gestured toward the door with his head. You look at him for a few more seconds before turning to go inside. He opens the door from behind you and you walk in, going up to the hostess' booth and greeting her.

"Hi, can we get a table-"

"We have a reservation for two. Under Stevens?" he interrupts you, his big frame gently pushing you aside to stand in front of her. Your patience starts to grow a little thin, but then he lowers his voice as he leans forward and says, "..and do you have those accommodations I requested?"

His eyes have a look of slight hopefulness in them, and you can't help but be incredibly curious at this point. You can tell he's trying hard not to give in to his facial expression, but he almost looks like a little boy with the way his big brown eyes look so innocent in the moment. Again, a weird feeling of familiarity runs through you as you look up at his face. You can't exactly place it, but you almost feel as if you'd seen that look before somewhere...

"Absolutely Mr. Stevens. Right this way." she answers smiling. She steps from behind the podium and begins leading you both to your table. You don't really know what to feel in the moment, but you heart does weird leaps of joy as if you're excited.

Your table is located all the way in the back of the restaurant, away from the rest of the patrons, and through a pair of double doors that open up to what appears to be a private dining room. The room is pretty big with dark wooden panels that cover the walls, with paintings on each of them. Two pendant bowl chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the yellow light giving the room a warm and cozy feeling. A box window opposite the door gives the room a beautiful second story view of the city. The room looks big enough to fit at least ten guests, but theres only one cloth covered table in the center. As you get closer you see that on both sides of the table there's already a drink, with what looks like a blue colored frothy soda with whipped cream on top and two cherries.

You look at the drink oddly before realization starts to hit you. Holy shit.

The hostess pulls your chair out for you before handing you a menu. "Enjoy your lunch, Miss Bubbles."

Holy fuck.

Your jaw drops as your eyes go wide, and for a moment you're just speechless. You watch the hostess as she leaves the room, then turn to look at the drink in front of you. Finally, you look up to Mr. Stevens across from you, and see him smiling uncontrollably as he watches you, pulling his hand up to cover his mouth as he starts laughing.

"Oh my god. Huey?!!!" you scream, hands flying up to your mouth. You push yourself out of your chair and run over to Erik, slamming into him while flinging your arms around his neck and hugging him hard, almost causing his chair to tip back. He catches the both of you, bringing the front legs of the chair back to ground, as he wraps his arms around you and just holds you, both of you laughing together.

"Finally nigga!" he says into your ear, smiling hard.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me nigga!?" You yell at him, breaking away for a moment to punch his arm before burying your face back into his neck.

It all made sense now. His weird personal space issues, why he kept giving you those goofy ass smirks, his joking about you being short. It was Erik fucking Stevens! Way back from elementary school in Oakland. Ya'll would barely ever use your real names when you were around each other back then, instead using nicknames based on tv shows you'd both watch together after school. Thats why you hadn't realized who he was until just this moment.

Yours had been based off of the kids show Power Puff Girls, which had been one of your all time favorites. When it came to dealing with the boys on the block, you were Buttercup to a T. Always full of mean ass comebacks and overt aggression, you learned early on that you had to hold your own when it came to dealing with the guys, especially because you were one of the only girls on the block. You didn't miss out on any fun activity that was going on in the summer just because you were a girl, and you made sure all the boys knew that too. Basketball on the courts at two? You were there. Video games and Street Fighter at one of your friends houses? You were there. Even during school, you made your presence known during any and all "boys" sports activities, like kickball and touch football, because you'd be damned if you were going to be excluded. Almost no boy would dare to mess with you, except Erik.

After his dad died when you both were around nine, your parents offered to lend a helping hand in making sure he was taken care of since he was new to the neighborhood, having been left in the care of an elderly aunt that lived in your building. You both had grown incredibly close during those years, given that Erik was constantly over your house studying after school or playing video games. Because of this, he was one of the only friends who could see right through your tough girl facade to the mild, even tempered good girl that you really were. When it came to your teachers and parents, you had an almost angelic like behavior. Even at your young age, you knew that there was a time and place for acting out, and the house and classroom were not one of them. You were raised better than that. He'd caught on to the game that you were playing, though, and once he did, he never let you live it down. Thus, the nickname Bubbles was born.

His nickname was Huey, based off of the intellectual and wise beyond his years character from

The Boondocks. Ya'll were far too young to be watching the show when you were younger, but that didn't stop you from sneaking in an episode or two at your house when your parents shifts would run late. You were mostly relegated to the comic strip section though, which both of you would enjoy together on your walks to school in the morning. Erik was one of those boys that knew his history and culture, and would waste no time in letting you know it either. Whether he was correcting teachers in class about the real history behind the Native American genocide, or speaking on the horrors of the Atlantic Slave trade with his friends, more than one phone call had been made home on behalf of Erik and how he'd interrupted class yet again to educate the masses.

After his aunt had died when you were thirteen, Erik had moved away to another country to live with an uncle and cousin. You'd lost contact with each other after that point, and even though you'd tried looking him up on Facebook a few years after, you were never able to find him. Other than the occasional inquiry from your parents, you hadn't thought about him in years, and you'd chalked him up to just another fun childhood memory you'd revisit every now and then.

But now, not only was he back, but he was here. In the flesh.

You pulled back again to look Erik in the face, trying to find some semblance of the little boy you'd known back then. Trying to figure out how you didn't realize that it was him sooner. But all you could see were his eyes. His big, beautiful brown eyes. And just like that, it all came rushing back to you.

You were so caught up in slowly piecing his features back together that you didn't realize you were basically sitting in Erik's lap at this point.

Erik realized it, though, and his eyes flicked down to his arms wrapped around your waist and back up to you before he began to tease you.

"You gon eat lunch in my lap, or you want your own chair?" he asks, face splitting into a wide grin.

That was one thing about Erik you'd never forget. He could always find a way to get you flustered with his damn charm.

"Oh, shit, my bad!" you gasp, hopping up so quick you almost lose your balance. You can feel the heat start to spread across your face but try to ignore it while you fix your dress.

"Its alright ma, I could be ya chair if you wanted. Truss me, I do not mind." He sits back in his chair and proceeds to give you a long look from head to toe, biting his lip. You almost can't believe how bold this nigga is being right in front of you, especially after all these years, but then you remember the way you looked at him when you first saw him in the Rotunda that morning.

You put your hands on your hips and cock your neck. "Is this payback for earlier?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

"There's that attitude I remember." he says, smirking at you. "And ion know. Maybe." He shrugs, raising an eyebrow back at you.

You open your mouth to say something, then close it, making a choice not to read too much into that statement. Instead you give a little grunt and pop him on the shoulder, turning to make your way back to your own seat, and hear him chuckling behind you. You pull out your chair and point at the drink on the table, plopping down in the seat.

"Big Blue float?" you ask.

"You already know," he says softly, a slow smile forming across his lips.

"I haven't had one of these in years, oh my god." You smile, stirring it with your straw. You lean forward and take a sip, and the delicious carbonated vanilla and syrup flavor floods your mouth. You close your eyes, and you can almost see the summers you spent hanging out on your balcony with Erik sipping the drink, watching the neighborhood kids play ball down below while you listened to the radio.

You break from your trip down memory lane and look up to see Erik doing the same, smiling and staring at his drink, eyes distant, and you wonder if he's remembering the same thing.

"How did you know it was me?" you ask him, brows furrowing in confusion and curiosity. Theres no way he immediately could have known who you were, especially since he didn't even learn your name until after speaking with Dr. Butler. Plus, if time had treated you the same way it had Erik, and you were really hoping it did judging how he looked, you probably looked almost nothing like you did when you were a kid.

Well, at least you hoped you didn't. It was a long shot wishing for that last part though, because you'd been mistaken for a high schooler more than once during your first month at the museum. It had become such a hassle being mistaken for an intern by security that you began incorporating eyeliner and mascara into your daily routine just to look a little older.

"You must've forgot how well I know you, girl. You the only one I know that be lookin at other people live their lives and have the biggest fuckin smile like you livin it with them."

Your people watching. So he did immediately know who you were. That was the one thing you loved doing most on that balcony during those summers, and Erik had commented more than once how weirdly happy you always looked while you were watching the neighborhood.

You smile wide at the memory, nervously biting your thumb as you look at him.

He grins back. "Yeah, that one. Right there. I couldn't forget that smile, even if I tried."

You drop your smile and roll your eyes, kissing your teeth at him.

"Shut yo ass up." you mumble.

You'd be lying if you said that wasn't some cute ass shit he just spit, but you didn't want it getting to his head, even if it did have you feeling some type of way.

"Don't be rollin ya eyes at me. And who you think you cursin at?" He questions, eyeing you playfully from across the table.

"Yeah, whateva. Corny ass nigga..." you laugh, picking up your menu to shield you from his stare.

You hear him push back his chair and make a move to get up, but the waiter walks into the room, stopping him. You almost thank the waiter for their timing, because you really didn't feel like roughhousing with Erik in this restaurant in your heels.

"Aiight, keep playin wit me Bubbles. You gon see." You giggle as you peer over the menu to look at him.

~~~~~

It was amazing how quickly the both of you fell right back into the motions of your old friendship, as if almost no time had passed at all. Lunch flew by as you caught each other up on what happened in each others lives over the years, and how you'd both ended up in D.C.

Turned out that the uncle and cousin Erik had moved out of the country to live with were royalty. The King and Prince of Wakanda, to be exact, which made him a Prince himself. He'd come back to the states for college after he turned 18, graduating two years early and going straight to MIT for Grad School, which he also graduated early. He returned to Wakanda to work in the Science and Technology field with his younger cousin, helping her to create Wakandan Outreach programs all across the U.S. since revealing their technology to the rest of the world. So, deciding he needed a change of scenery and to get away from his "annoying ass know it all cousins" (his words), he packed up and moved back to the states, starting his work with the Capitol.

You balked at his accomplishments, almost feeling bad that it had taken you four years just to complete your undergrad. And that was something you were really proud of. But more than anything, you were floored that he was actually Wakandan royalty, and related to King T'Challa, the Black Panther himself.

You were so engrossed with the details of his story, that you completely forgot all about the budget meeting the lunch was intended for until you got back to the museum parking lot two hours later, the manila folder still in your purse, untouched.

"Ah shit, we forgot about the budget!" you exclaim, giving yourself a face palm before blowing a raspberry. You had quite a tendency for being forgetful that day, and you didn't want to get on Dr. Butlers bad side as a result of it. You were doing well in your new job, but you still felt that you had so much left to prove.

"Forget allat. I can go over it myself before the next meeting." he says, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. You almost give him an incredulous look before you remember. Oh yeah. MIT. He can figure it out.

"I wanna show you something tho, close ya eyes." His smile turns goofy and childlike again, and you give him a wary look before doing what your told.

You hear him reach in the back seat and hear the rustling of a plastic bag.

"Ok now hold out ya hand." You do, and he plops something into it, the weight of it a little heavier than what you expected. You feel it between your hands first, and you can feel through the bag that whatever it is, its a bunch of small, squishy pieces, but it also feels a little gritty. You start to get grossed out, but when you open your eyes and look down, you laugh at what you see.

"How the fuck you find this!?" You ask, and you're both laughing now. In your hand is a small ziploc bag filled with koolaid gummy bears, the dyed sugar covering the tops, giving it an encrusted look. You hadn't had koolaid gummy bears in YEARS, and your shocked he managed to find some given neither of you were in school anymore.

"Apparently they sell them at corner stores now. I asked the valet kid if he could score us some." he tells you.

"Oh, so thats what ya'll were whispering about. Thought ya'll was planning on kidnapping my ass." You laugh, giving an overly relieved look.

"Never know. I still might." he says tilting his head at you, the playfulness back in his eyes.

You give him a look before scoffing and rolling your eyes, but before you can turn to open your door he grabs your face in his hand and brings you close to him, so close your foreheads are almost touching. You brace one hand against his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt.

"I told you to stop rollin ya eyes at me." his voice is low, almost a whisper, and he's looking you right in the eyes. Something in the bottom of your stomach turns, making you squirm in response. You glance down nervously, but bring your eyes right back up when you look at his full lips.

You get a little bold. "No." you say, raising a brow and putting a little bit of force behind your words. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears as your breath gets shallower.

"Always so fuckin stubborn." He smirks at you, swiping a slow finger across your lips.

Before you can process whats happening, he kisses you, soft and slow, and you swear time slows down for a second. He starts giving you soft licks, and you moan a little into his mouth, your other hand dropping the ziploc bag and wrapping around his neck. He pulls away after a moment and nips at your bottom lip, looking into your eyes.

"Been wanting to do that since I was thirteen," he tells you, breath a little ragged.

You smile and look down, closing your eyes while you shake your head. You'd wanted the same exact thing, but you really didn't need this kind of distraction. Not with half a work day still ahead of you.

"I um, I think I should go now." You say, looking back up and chuckling at him so he didn't feel like you were just blowing him off. "If I don't go now, I don't know if I ever will."

"I'm alright with that." He says, gently stroking your jaw with this thumb.

"Yeah, but," you pull away, "my rent isn't." he laughs, and you begin collecting your things before popping open the door.

You hand him the folder, and give him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to get out.

"You gone call me when you get home, Bubbles?" he asks you, leaning over and cheesing at you.

"No," you say, and before he can say anything you close the door and head into the museum, a huge goofy ass smile spreading across your face.

**Author's Note:**

> This my was very first fic and was just an idea I threw out on Tumblr. The following chapters are longer. Hope you liked it!


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